To promote the growth and development of the game of Rugby

For all of the Peanut Gallery that did not like my last match report . . .

BITE ME!!  That being said, I shall try to redeem my aberrant behavior.

Long Island was host of this week’s Palooza.  Normally they host a match at a park on the Great Bay of Oyster on the North Shore.  Yesterday’s match was preempted by, of all things, a REGATTA!  That has to be a first; a rugby game moved because of a sailing meet.  To quote the not-so-great John Stirling, “It just goes to show you Susan, you can’t predict Rugby”.

With the North Side out of the picture, we went to Long Island’s South and West extreme, otherwise known as Breezy Point, Brooklyn (or as known to the locals, Breezy Joint).

Located just off the beach overlooking the Atlantic, the pitch offered an old school feel, as opposed to the sanitized, grated rubber tire filled artificial field to the North.  Irish Caligula looked at the pitch and moaned, “Bless me lucky stars, you’d never find a pitch such as this in all of Ireland”.  Aussie Mick had the other view.  The barren patches of hard packed dirt reminded him of the Outback (but enough about the steak of a chain restaurant).  Still, the Summer that never came became the Summer that won’t leave.  Temperatures in the upper 70’s made the pitch warmer than Mick’s beloved Sydney.

11 Morris Lions would cross the Verrazano and team up with the Village Lions and become Lion Kings.  Long Island (Old Boys and Young Boys) would take whoever else was around and a match was held.

Once the kickoff was made, it quickly became evident that the youth and speed of Long Island would make for a long afternoon.  The Lion Kings played more like Simba being cuffed around by his Uncle Scar.  We did OK with the set pieces, winning virtually all of our scrums and lineouts, but it all broke down once the ball was sent wide.  Our backline competed valiantly, but could not keep up with the young whippersnappers.  Long Island would score 4 tries in each of the 3 periods, whilst we would only counter with 2.

After the match, the social was set up in a Lifeguard clubhouse, where all involved discussed the match and offered answers to world peace and cures for the common cold.  Somehow the subject of “writing” one’s name in the snow came up.  Andy proudly proclaimed that he had excellent penis-manship.  Some of us were to leave early, as our drivers had previous engagements.  But it did allow a few of us to enjoy a cleansing ale at Houlithorns, followed by vitaminization at Thatchers.

In 2 weeks, we do it again in Denville.